


In the Face of Fear

by ReclessAbandon



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Arachnophobia, F/M, Kashyyyk, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, ask box fic, matriarch wyyyschokk, wyyyschokk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReclessAbandon/pseuds/ReclessAbandon
Summary: Kashyyyk has its own charms and surprises, but what if one of those said surprises rear its ugly, unpleasant head right in front of you in the form of a spider that’s the size of a boulder?
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Behold, the Mother!

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got my laptop fixed as of writing! I just brought it home, straight out of the repair shop. I'm so glad it's home and I can use it like normal <3 I can't wait to continue writing and complete all my pending requests! Thank you so much for those who waited and kept themselves entertained with my other stories. It means a lot to me :"3

You and Cal finish off the last wave of Stormtroopers.

The partisan informants were right about the Imps getting into the forest to find Tarfful’s home village—which also doubles as a hideout for the Wookiees and a handful of partisans now led by Mari Kosan after Saw had left them.

“Good thing they haven’t come close to the hideout itself,” Cal commented.

“No,” you scoffed a chuckle. “They have a lot to go through besides us.”

Beneath your snarky, roguish facade, you clench your fist as you fight off the chill travelling down your spine when you catch the cluster of hatched Wyyyschokk eggs glued to a tree trunk. Cal spotted your grimace, you’re not taking your eyes off of those empty, shattered shells.

“You sure can’t stop looking at them,”

“I want to, but… Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“Come on, let’s get away from them. Those hatchlings could be close,”

“Heeeey!!” you whined, he laughed in response. You playfully tackled him from behind as he walked ahead of you.

It was a tedious trek to the hideout village—but that’s its advantage—both Jedi had to cross paths with a few more creatures before getting to any of the watchtowers or huts. You’re just secretly thankful that you haven’t run into any Wyyyschokks yet—most especially the albino, which happens to be the rarest of its kind.

You tread the forest with more caution than care, your eyes pan from tree-to-tree—searching for signs of eggs and webs—and Cal was quiet about noticing your anxiety. He knew you hated it when your phobia is being pointed out in some way, though he figured you’d like to talk about it just to vent it out.

For someone who isn’t familiar with the terrain of Kashyyyk, it can either be mesmerizing or downright frightening. It goes both ways for you. It becomes the latter when you and Cal stumbled upon a wrong turn due to the labyrinthine layout of the forest. Cal realizes his mistake and attempts to solve it.

“Hey, Cal, are you sure you saw a marker in a tree hollow?”

“I think so,” he replied, with the doubt evident in his voice. “Okay, I really think we took a wrong turn.”

BD-1 politely cut in and flashed the holomap, both Jedi navigated with their eyes, occasionally pointing at patches of land and tracking their would-be path.

“I think we cut across this upper level of the forest, there should be—”

You could’ve sworn you heard something shuffle behind your backs. Your abrupt turning unintentionally cut off Cal in the middle of his explaining.

“[Y/N], you okay?”

“Did you hear that?”

A pause. He listened in on the silence.

A simple rustle of the flora simply heightened your senses—mostly propelled by fear—and then the thing that neither of you noticed before has caught your attention.

“[Y/N], honestly, are you alright?”

You didn’t answer, you kept scanning the area and knew completely well that something isn’t sitting right with you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sighed, and stepped forward. “I’m just jumpy, that’s all—”

“[Y/N], BACK AWAY!!!”

Too late! By the time Cal had noticed that you were walking into a literal trap and tried to get you out of it, he was pushed back when the  _ most enormous _ and most brightly-colored Wyyyschokk both of you have ever seen pounced on you. It had been patiently waiting for either of you to step on its web trap on the ground—and you went right into it. The creature entrapped you with its legs as thick as tree roots, you wriggle helplessly as you couldn’t take your eyes off of its multitude of bulbous, full black eyes, and its mandibles foaming with bile—hungry for flesh—twitch and flick above your bosom.

You let out what ought to be the loudest scream your chords could ever produce; once out of breath, you inhale and exhale rapidly. Your throat goes sore from the shouting that it stings whenever air would enter your windpipe.

The words are dislodged in your throat—you wanted to scream for help but cannot—your voice renders itself absent in your mouth, and only the silence brought upon by the sheer horror of this monster’s overall appearance, and in an uncomfortable closeness with you too.

Cal ran up to it, leapt, and drove his saber into its plump, jiggling hind abdomen. It screeched—a shrill, piercing wail that left a high-pitch noise in the ears—and turned to the offensive against Cal. That was your signal to get up, but the terror had paralyzed you; instead, the entire scuffle with that gigantic Wyyyschokk happened right before your eyes—just like with the eggshells, you cannot look away no matter how much you want to, the longer you look the more materialized your fear becomes. The redhead succeeded in a series of parries to disorient the creature.

“[Y/N], get to the high ground!”

His warning fell on deaf ears. You’re still stuck in staring at the spider, with your back against the wall.

“Bee-beeee,  _ triiiillll!!! _ ”

“I know, BD, I know!”

The little droid warned Cal that you were still frozen stuck in harm’s way, and he needed to think fast to get both of you out of this mess. He cleanly blocked the Wyyyschokk’s incoming wave of attacks, searing its fangs and hairy legs with his lightsaber upon parrying—and while the creature was distracted by its wounds, Cal fished out a flashbomb. He turned his heel to you before the area would be engulfed in bright light in a matter of a split second. He snatched you by the arm, pulled you up, and that woke you from that frozen trance of fear.

“We gotta move!”

The Wyyyschokk thrashed and erratically scampered left and right in search of its prey, you and Cal were making your escape through a pinch in the wall; the enemy tried to catch up but you had already squeezed through the end, its pointed legs jerked as it fitted through the crack, desperately trying to claw either of you just for a scrap of meat.

Life was still flashing before your eyes even after the Wyyyschokk gave up its pursuit. Your heart pounded louder than the Wookiees’ war drums, so much so that your breath cannot keep up with the pulse anymore, and your limbs have returned to its jelly-like state after you crawled your way out of the wall.

He noticed the rapid, sharp breaths that you take. There was also a wetness glossing over the surface of your eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

You couldn’t speak, still shell-shocked by the assault, and slowly shook your head as a response. The tears persist.

“Come on,”

A single touch—gentle and slight—was enough to make you jolt. You were ceaselessly apologetic. For what, exactly? Cal patiently waited for you to calm yourself and eventually helped you. When he thought you were ready, he held out his hand for you.

Slow and steady—Cal took the lead again, and he made sure you were okay along the way. Eventually, you did reach the hideout, but the trauma still hasn’t left your system and you have no idea how to get it out. A partisan was out there to greet you, but the first thing he acknowledges is the horror in your blank stare.

“Is [Y/N] alright?”

“Not really, we just stumbled upon the  _ biggest _ Wyyyschokk we’ve ever seen,”

“Wait, does this Wyyyschokk happen to have brighter colors than the rest?”

Both Jedi exchanged glances, trying to recall the appearance of the monstrosity, and then the two of you looked at the rebel again; though, it was Cal who did most of the conversing.

“Come to think of it, yeah, it was a bit more vibrant than the others,”

“Oh, well,” the partisan scratched the back of his head, evidently reluctant to break it to you. “I think you guys just met the  _ Matriarch Wyyyschokk. _ ”

Your spine reduced to jelly again, goosebumps pelt your skin as a chill coated your shoulders, your eyes widened so much that they’d almost pop out of your sockets!

“I’m sorry,” you blinked several times, almost comically. “Run that by me again, soldier?”

“The Matriarch Wyyyschokk. Their mother. The mama spider.”

“I know what ‘matriarch’ means! But good gods, those things have a mother?!”

“Well, how do you expect to be so many of them wandering around without one?” the partisan shrugged.

“That’s just spectacular,” you say half-heartedly.

“Just steer clear of its den,”

“Thanks, we’ll remember that!” you whined.

Your hysterics still haven’t died down by the time both of you and Cal waltz through the network of bridges to start a little tour of the village.


	2. Shadowy Adversary

Now that you’re safe and sound in the village hideout, you recovered in the cottage assigned to you. The partisans served food and drink for those who came from the trek.

Cal peacefully sat down with you while sipping a mug of soup.

“You okay now?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you huffed. “My life isn’t finished flashing before my eyes—otherwise, I’m fine.”

The boy doesn’t take your word for it—he catches a glimpse of your fingers trembling and struggling to hold your cup on both sides. Eventually, you put down the said cup after taking ibe final sip, and drew your legs to your chest.

Embarrassed, you avoid eye contact from him and bury half of your face on the flesh of your knees.

You probably think I’m like some kind of child,” you blurted, finding a way to refrain from the silence.

Puzzled, Cal tilted his head.

“No. Why would I think that?”

“Well, it’s silly. To be afraid of spiders, even at this age. Not to mention, we’re Jedi—we’re not supposed to let fear take over us. And I failed exactly at that.”

“Oh, [Y/N],” he sighed, endeared. “You forget that Master Yoda once said fear is natural, but to overcome it is solely on us.”

You remember that particular lesson, though you didn’t hear it directly from Master Yoda, but from your own master. You had one experience that prompted him to repeat the grandmaster’s proverb to you on one occasion from a long time ago.

Come to think of it , Cal is now the second person to know of your arachnophobia. Your master being the first. You’re greatly thankful that neither found it funny or make it a reason to ridicule you—which happened to be one of your deep fears.

“Okay, then you’d find it laughable that I have never gotten over my fear of spiders—the abnormally big ones, at least.”

Again, Cal shook his head in complete disagreement.

“I’m actually afraid of staying trapped in small spaces,” shared Cal, thinking it would do good if both of you start opening up about each other’s phobias.

He recalls the moment where he sat in the escape pod, with his master now dead even before it had deployed. Then he recalls being in another escape pod—this time, the Mantis’s—on their way to Nur, you vividly remember that because you saw him and Cere out to the pods; that day, you stayed in the ship with Merrin and Greez.

“That time, I couldn’t breathe when the rumbling started. I was already hyperventilating when the Mantis jettisoned us, and I knew I had to conserve my air. So I closed my eyes and remembered you—you were standing in front of my pod, right?”

“That’s right…” you absentmindedly nodded. “I remember.”

Not even an airtight pod could hold in the fear that was seeping out of Cal that time; but you always took to be braver than yourself. You want to make it known to him that he is, in fact, more courageous—something that you strive to be. You wonder if he even knows.

After a quick meal at 1500, you and Cal were welcome to have a tour of the village—a vast network of treehouses, connected by vine swings and hanging bridges—and later introduced to your would-be lodgings should the Mantis crew decide to stay here for a day or two. The mood was strange though, as both of you passed by small groups of partisans together, hushed voices and ambiguous sentences buzzed from their gossip circles, and the tones of their voices were cautious—not of being heard by the Jedi, but of the subject at hand.

“Have you ever seen a Stormtrooper like that?”

“No. It’s my first time seeing it.”

“One moment it was right in front of me, I only looked away for a second and it was gone!”

You turned to Cal, who was just as in the dark as you are.

“Another type of Stormtrooper?” you verified.

One of the partisans overheard you, he filled both of you in on their topic.

“You guys haven’t bumped into those Stormtroopers with black armor?”

“You mean Purge Troopers?” Cal clarified.

“No, no. This one’s different,” the partisans proceed to humor both Jedi. “These Stormtroopers have pure black armor. You’d know it’s that type of Stormtrooper if you see the Imp insignia on their left chest.”

While the soldiers explained, the two Jedi exchanged glances and tried to picture the Stormtrooper in question. Neither of them seem to recall such a design; looking at one another for some sort of verification gave no help.

“Do you happen to know what they’re called?”

“According to our scouts, they’re called the Shadowtroopers,”

You reiterated, “Is that what your buddy over there meant? Sorry, I just overheard,”

“Yeah, apparently they have some kind of cloaking device that basically turns them invisible,”

“Well, that’s gonna be a problem,” shrugged the redhead.

After the conversation, you continued your tour of the treetop village. Eventually, the two of you retreated to your cottage to rest your legs.

“First, we have the mother of all spiders; and now we have a disappearing Stormtrooper,” you grumbled half-jokingly, but the frustration was more prevalent.

“I wouldn’t wanna bump into them  _ all at the time _ either,” Cal shuddered. “ _ If  _ that happens, who are you killing first?”

“Whichever’s closer to my saber,” you dryly joked while your fingers sink into the blanket.

Cal pats your head and lightly tussles your hair, “I’m sure we can get them both.”

You nuzzled your cheek against his forearm as he continued to lightly scratch your scalp.

An abrupt silence took over you while you stared blankly in the direction of the window, as if in deep thought. You wanted to learn how to quell your fear or at least overcome it without freezing in place at the first sign of a spider entering your radar. It was a little difficult to put out the words, but it was something that you really want to do—you’re just too embarrassed to say so. In the end, you kept it to yourself instead of reaching out to Cal for help; though, he sensed it all from you—the clash of the real intent versus the reluctance of asking. He decided to just let you do it in your own speed.

That night, the treetop village glowed with faint but bright-enough light. The bridge posts were illuminated by an iridescent trail of what ought to be the essence of a flame beetle, Wookiees prefer this over candle as it burns for a longer period of time, and doesn’t immediately extinguish due to the viscosity of the substance. Scouts came running back to the hideout, drawing in some attention from the other rebels lounging about the verandas of the cottages.

“Were you followed?” greeted the leader, his caution stemming from the existence of Shadowtroopers and their most prominent ability. 

“No, we weren’t,”

“We made sure we weren’t,” emphasized the companion.

The scout pair had everybody gathered over one of the big cottages used for conferences, it’s also the only one that had a holotable. The Jedi joined the briefing, curious to see if the scouts picked up any intel—even a morsel of information—on their new adversary. Unfortunately, they haven’t much to say about them, except the fact that you only spot them re-materializing when it’s already too late.

“It’s like a portion of thin air shimmers and swirls until you slowly make out their silhouette—but only at the last second. And then the next thing you know, you’re being hammered in the face with the handle of their rifles!” explains the first scout.

The highlight of it all was the way he described the Shadowtroopers slowly materialize and it make themselves appear to be coming out of thin air. Cal imagined the shimmering to be some kind of faintly visible warp—like a ripple of the Force when inflicting a certain amount of it, he likened to how debris and other objects would get caught in a wave of the Force when executing a strong Force Slow.

“Where are they spread out?” inquired Cal.

“They’re spread thin in the refinery area, we suspect more of them are deployed in the inner parts of the forest—the route to the Shadowlands for instance. That’ll put their cloaking to better use.”

“Good point,” Cal lightly elbows your arm. “Ready to play hide and seek with some Shadowtroopers?”

You chuckled roguishly, “I’m down if you are.”


	3. One Problem After The Other

Grouped with a small band of partisans, the Jedi pair stalked through the western forest where they presumed the Shadowtroopers would be deployed.

“What good is a cloaking device if they’re just gonna stand and guard a metal building, anyway?” you teased and garnered some chuckles from your companions.

While Jedi senses are keener and more human than a scanner, having both at their disposal would prove to be an advantage. The group has gotten far into the woods now, Cal was starting to pick something up, but he described it as elusive and always on the move.

“Do you think it could be a Shadowtrooper?”

“Could be, could be not,”

Even the rebels were extra alert on today’s mission. For every rustle of grass or leaves, whenever a rock would clatter against anything, even so much as the soft crunching of a twig—they would turn to its direction with all barrels of their rifles at the ready.

Cal’s ears pricked up when he heard a distant rustling—he expected an animal sound to follow after it, but there was none—then his eyes panned left and right, searching for something or perhaps nothing at all. He had already sensed something strange, the random noise he detected just amplified it.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one sensing it, [Y/N],”

“I don’t know, I… I have a strange feeling that something’s watching us. But I don’t know if it’s the Shadowtroopers or something else,”

The redhead hummed and the entire group pressed on. The sunlight’s rays selectively pierced through the trees’ canopies; the further in all of you go, your senses immediately cranked up to eleven. By instinct, your hand pats your leg in search of your lightsaber while keeping your eyes peeled in the way forward.

_ Still here. _ You thought, feeling your palm shape up to the roundness of your weapon.

As you and your group step into the part of the forest, you finally had your senses keened when the sunlight in the forest got dimmer. You know something isn’t right anymore, Cal looked at you to affirm that he too senses it.

“Wait,” you firmly said, causing everybody to stop in their tracks. “I sense them.”

“Them? How many do you think there are?” said one partisan.

“I don’t know exactly—but there’s more than one,”

“Great,” grumbled one. “Doesn’t really narrow things down but we’ll work with it.”

The rebels and Jedi press on, but their collective senses tripled, though the latter became more cautious and more sensitive to their surroundings.

“They’re close…” you mouthed, the softness of your voice only got to Cal’s earshot.

The snap of a twig, not by the foot of any of your group, set everybody’s fight-of-flight response. In the split second before that noise died down, blasters clicked and triggers were squeezed; red and green projectiles hailed back and forth.

The Shadowtroopers gave their positions, you witnessed the exact phenomenon that the scout from a few days ago described: thin air swirling as it materializes into a shapeless silhouette, until the color turn more opaque, and only then does one realize they have a Shadowtrooper standing right in front of them.

Luckily, you detected the trooper while his silhouette returns to its solid shape, a blind strike got him on the torso—creating a gash of embers on his frontal plate. Like the static of a hologram, his now-damaged cloaking device caused his entire appearance to crackle until he’s reverted to normal. On the other hand, Cal reeled in his opponent, suspending him inches above the ground and then drove his lightsaber through the black armor; the boy witnesses the same effect once the Shadowtrooper’s armor is damaged to a certain extent.

Most of the rebels were able to damage the other Shadowtroopers’ armor, rendering them incapable of using their cloaking device, thus pelting them with blaster fire with the help of the Jedi pair deflecting their shots and targeting the armor when banking it.

“Not so tough now, are ya?!” celebrated one partisan and the others followed.

However, something still doesn’t sit right with the two Jedi youngsters. How you wished you could tell off these rebels to save the celebration for later until they’re back in the hideout. In the distance, you hear a slow, rhythmic beeping until it got louder…

And louder.

_ Thunk. _

The ball-like weapon mutely rolled over on the earthy cushion beneath your feet, but between the spaces of the grass you spotted its metallic sheen and the red dot-sized light.

“EVERYBODY RUN!!!” you screeched.

A thermal detonator had gone off. Thankfully, nobody was caught in the deadly radius of the blast and only got as little as burns and scrapes. Another wave—albeit small—of Shadowtroopers came barging through the smoke and taking advantage of your collective disoriented state. Being the one least affected by the blast, you drew their attention to you by forcefully turning one of them around from the slightly fazed rebels and then to you—in result, ruining his aim.

“About to shoot at a dazed, immobilized enemy?” you clicked your tongue. “Should’ve expected you’d fight dirty!”

The Shadowtrooper wriggled in your Force grip, his gun-hand struggled to break through whatever’s binding them from aiming at a straight line. Your hold onto him was so tight that even breathing was suffocating. He was denied a pull of the trigger when you flung your target to the other one on your two o’ clock side. At the last minute, another Shadowtrooper came running towards you—he was directly in your periphery—and you got caught in a melee; you were too late to fight back and got struck by the barrel of his rifle, you come rolling to the edge of a ridge—a single kick would send you plummeting to Force-knows-where.

Little did the Shadowtrooper knew that you were playing dead, timing the exact moment you’ll throw him off to the abyss. His footsteps approach you, the vibration of his approaching footsteps meets the nerves of your body against the earth; you feel his one foot lifting up from the ground—either to poke your body to see if you’re dead or to kick you off, it doesn’t matter—and you waited for that split second his boot touches you.

_ Hup! _

You scramble on the dust, quickly grabbed the barrel of the rifle facing downward to tug him in closer, tucked your knees and planted your feet flat on his stomach and your legs sprang upward. The weight of the soles of your feet got ighter, but your success has been compromised as the Shadowtrooper grabbed onto your sleeve in a desperate attempt to literally hold on for dear life!

In the midst of the firefight, Cal scanned the area quickly and found you missing. He looked around and heard your voice in the empty end of the ridge—he immediately got the hint and booked it. He comes rushing, sliding down on his stomach and peeking over the edge to find you barely holding onto a protruding rock on the wall while fighting off the Shadowtrooper clinging on your leg.

“Get…! OFF!!!” you grunted, trying to kick the trooper in the face to make him let go.

Cal dipped his hand over the edge, palm wide open, inching closer so you could grab it.

The Shadowtrooper claws at your calf to make you stop kicking, but the more he claws at and bluntly hits your leg flimsily with his rifle, the more you kick at him.

“Come on, [Y/N], reach!”

“I…” you huffed. “I can’t!”

Eventually, you bent your leg up, gathering enough strength to release one last kick—the hard sole of your boot met the Shadowtrooper’s face—and then another stomp for good measure…

And another…

And one last.

The Shadowtrooper, now dazed from the damage his face had taken, gradually lost grip around your leg and let go, falling into the pit and disappearing into the darkness that blends well with his dark armor. Meanwhile, the rock handhold you’ve been clinging on has started to crumble underneath your fingertips. You’re running out of time.

The warble in your voice is evident. You sobbed as you spoke. Neither yourself or Cal can deny the fear.

“Cal… the rock’s about to give!”

“It’s gonna be okay,” he repeatedly told you this every time he attempts to reach further.

With the dead weight gone, Cal got a hold of you. His forearm pressing against yours as he grabs you just by the elbow line.

“I got you, [Y/N], I got you!”

Cal hauled you up and finally you’re on solid ground… for now.

The relief was short-lived.

You watched his eyes widen with horror, because he knows you heard it too—a single crack of the rock you two are on had broken off and gave!

The colossal chunk of the ridge eroded and slid on the slope, leaving a deep trail on the soil, along with its two unlikely passengers holding at the jagged edge of the rock. It bounced and collided at every corner it bumped into, it was a violent ride—both you and Cal practically dug your nails into the rock and kept your head low.

The chunk of hard earth tore a hole through the rain-soaked soil. Bioluminescent mushrooms lit up the pit that you and Cal have fallen into, dotting the walls with an orange glow, though it’s not enough to fill the entire space—however, despite the warmth they give off, it all feels like a front. Both of you got a bad feeling about this.

“This doesn’t look good,” you mutter to Cal, who was still in the midst of recomposing himself after all that wild ride of a descent.

Looking back, over his shoulder, Cal examined the crater the rock had bore during the fall: the height of hole from the ground was too high for either of you to climb up on. You had a grappling hook on your gauntlet, but looking at the same direction as Cal, you can’t find a suitable surface to secure the hook; squinting your eyes with little sunlight pooling through the crater, you can see that the surrounding wall is made up of moist soil—almost loam-like—which will definitely not hold, especially both of your weights. There were no seemingly firm handholds either.

It’s a long walk to the way out for both of you until the light at the end of the tunnel shines; and the only way through is straight ahead—if there is one.

Cal agreed, having the same queasiness in the stomach as you, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

The two of you hopped down from the rock and carefully stalked your way through the cavern, unaware what kind of creatures are lurking within its crevices. Without either of your noticing, the corpse of the Shadowtrooper that had clung to you was right behind you, though it lied in the shadows, a pair of hairy legs snaked out of the darker end and spirited the body away from the light of day.

Igniting your sabers to torch the path, it was eerily quiet, spare the coarse dirt crunching underneath your boots. The brightness of your lightsabers combined illuminated the cave at a certain range, Cal was a few paces ahead of you to extend that range.

“It’s like a maze,” he wondered out loud, slowly waving his saber left and right to study the texture of the walls.

“Wooo…” BD-1 whistled, spooked by the darkness. “Bee… t-t-trill…”

Something crunched under your shoe when you took a step—it was thin, crisp, and fragile like eggshells—you turned your foot over and saw white shards clinging on the sole. You immediately recognize the material.

“Oh no…” you groaned.

Cal paused in his tracks and glanced over to you, alarmed by the ominous tone in your voice, “What is it?”

“I know where we are… and it’s not good.”

The large holes on the cave’s wall started to hiss and click. It produced multitudes of legs that are five times thicker than an ion cannon’s barrel; and then comes out a creature with a rotund abdomen, an ironically colorful exoshell, and a pair of mandibles laced with its own bile that could paralyze once it enters one’s bloodstreams.

Your worst nightmare on eight legs.


	4. Demon on Eight Legs

The glow of your lightsabers have either attracted or irritated them enough to make them crawl out of those holes in the wall.

Literally back to back with one another, you and Cal are being circled by the spiders. There are at least five closing the ring.

“BEE, BEE-TRIIILL!!” shrilled a panicked BD-1.

“I know, I know! I see them!” you shrieked back.

Your fighting grip falters around your saber, your swings are flimsy, and your strikes bore little damage—it could only graze their hides and anger them more, which is never good. One Wyyyschokk had its head full of eyes on you, flickering its mandibles with a gluttonous excitement, it lured closer while you backed away. The normal-sized ones were somewhat less of a challenge for you to overcome your phobia, still a challenge nonetheless. You’re only hoping the mother doesn’t show up and get itself involved.

Cal cut through their numbers effortlessly. You envied him. Envied the fact that these arachnids don’t bother him to the same degree as they do to you. Fighting these humongous crawlers felt taxing, though you still fought them to get it over with; when this wave finally settled, the two of you went on the move, going in blind into their labyrinthine dwelling.

“This way!”

“Are you sure?!”

“I know it!”

Holding his saber over his head, Cal leads the way—twisting and turning, you don’t know anymore if you’ve turned left or right this time but you still followed him. Hope burning within you that both of you will get out of this horrendous place alive soon. The two of you continued running, hand-in-hand, you looking out for the rear while he takes the lead; eventually, you got to the edge, and hopped along the rock platforms which vaguely resembled the path to the Gorgara’s pit in Dathomir.

“We’re just going further in!” you gasped at the realization.

“Don’t worry, there’s surely a way out,” reassured the boy.

There was barely any light in the deeper pit that you’ve jumped into. You strained your neck, tilting up to examine the area, searching for any visible opening that could serve as a way out, until you found one—high up in the ceiling of the cave is a rabbit hole of sorts.

“Look overt here!” you pointed to the cave’s oculus.

Cal scanned the hole and its surroundings, planning out the climb route. He knows you’re not equipped with climbing claws, instead you’re armed with a grappling hook appendaged to your gauntlet. You were doing the same thing: mapping out where to shoot the hook.

“There’s a small enough ledge I can perch on. From there, I can wire my way through...” you paused. “I think.”

He shot you a look that easily translates to “You _think_?” and he stares at you for a considerable amount of seconds until you look back at him, throwing back a look that responds as “What?”

“It’s doable!” you argued.

“I don’t doubt that,”

As you navigate around the deeper pit, something about it gives off a different ambience. Waving your saber around, you notice that the tree bark and the walls made out of rock were dappled with silky, white wisps. You even shone a light on animal carcasses and insect husks—you even spotted the remains of what ought to be a juvenile Tach.

“Trill... Beeep...”

I know, BD-1, we’re getting out of here sooner than you think,” Cal calmed the droid on his shoulder.

Looking around some more, you find more and more animal carcasses—many of which have fallen prey to a trap that rendered them immobile and defenseless against the monstrosity that created such an elaborate trap.

“This is no cave,” you said as-a-matter-of-factly. “This is a nest.”

Cal held his head up, using his saber as a torchlight, and absentmindedly spun around to register that it  _is_ indeed a nest. However, his ankle slighted backwards, the heel of his boot sticking to the web-trap laced with a viscous adhesive; strings of the substance formed between his shoe and the soil, hindering his footsteps. He didn’t feel it in the first few inches, only did he realize he was in trouble and the Wyyyschokk that had been lurking and following you around had gotten him in its grasp before he could alert you.

His grunt  caused you to turn around and just when you think this day couldn’t get any worse, the Wyyyschokk that got him is the Matriarch Wyyyschokk.

“[Y/N]!!” Cal cracked, squirming in its coiled legs around his body.

Poor Cal saw his life flashing before his eyes, he could see it all replaying past the wide-open maws and fangs of the great Wyyyschokk. For a moment, he knew what your phobia felt like, and had a deeper understanding of it. The sheer horror overtook him and rendered his throat voiceless.

You melted to the muddy floor, you knees have lost their foundation, and your senses have dulled with your eyes glued to the monster. You blindly patted the soil, searching for anything, holding your unwanted gaze at the vibrant, prismatic color of the spider like that of a crow to a shiny trinket.

As the Matriarch Wyyyschokk slowly puts her would-be prey closer to her mouth, a hard, solid thump interrupted her—you had picked up a stone and lobbed it, hitting her head. When she turned around to face you, the creature was expressionless but somehow you can feel that wave of wrath gradually boiling within her.

“Oh damn it!” you immediately regretted it and scrambled to your feet, your heels failing to hold themselves upright, along with the wet soil not being very helpful.

You attempt to outrun the Matriarch Wyyyschokk at the last second; knowing full well that you’re literally an arm’s reach, the spider stretches out her free leg to your direction. It’s a twisted imagining to think of her holding these two humans and wave them about like dolls.

Saber in hand, you thumbed the switch. A radiant beam of light wildly growling out of the emitter. You could almost feel the hair of the Matriarch’s leg just  _centimeters_ away from your spine; with one swing of your arm, in result, she lost hers. The mother spider reared back in pain, though, remarkably, she was able to keep a firm grip on Cal—she just thrashed him around, suspended in mid-air, her swerving throes dizzied the poor boy.

Y ou crawled into a thicket the size of a bramble bush, offering enough protection from being grappled by the Wyyyschokk, but you wouldn’t leave Cal behind. While the Matriarch was distracted in trying to claw you out of the thicket, Cal had finally broken out of her grip and scrambled away himself. Immediately igniting his saber, he watched the lumbering beast of an arachnid look at her now-empty leg, turn around in search of her prey, and hiss angrily at him for escaping.

Now that the Matriarch isn’t after you, it’s the perfect time to get out. Cal was holding out on his own just fine, but you knew you had to help him—the intent is there, but your fear was the main hindrance of you doing so. Cal turned to you.

“[Y/N], get to safety! I can handle this!”

“No, I’m not leaving you!”

While the two of you argued, the Matriatch Wyyyschokk—which is too smart for an animal—took the opportunity of her preys being distracted with each other and quick tucked her legs closer to her fangs, they moved with great precision and speed. The glands just underneath the spider’s jugular were doing its work, excreting a substance that’s greenish-white and thin as string, her amputated leg was still capable of holding it while the other spun and spindled the threads.

It was too late when Cal returned his attention to the spider. At the last minute, the Matriarch Wyyyschokk lobbed her spooled creation towards the boy—instantly trapping him in a cocoon of her own web. He discovers the material to be stronger and thicker than the regular Wyyyschokks’ thus harder to break out of. He can’t even move his fingers to get to the switch of his saber!

You shrieked out Cal’s name; he squirmed as he plopped to the ground, essentially helpless and immobile—like the remains of prey during their final hours—the Matriarch must have thought she’s finally resolved this one nuisance. The spider closes in on the cocooned redhead writing on the floor, when she towered over the Jedi boy, he felt like the only thing that could break out of this silky prison is his wildly beating heart. In the spur of a moment, you threw yourself between the Matriarch’s jaws and Cal, and deflected her as she was about to lunge and sink her thick fangs into the boy. Effectively, your saber singed her mandibles and perhaps the roof of her mouth when she “bit” into the blade. The Wyyyschokk stepped back in a fit of burning pain, while doing so, you turned to Cal and figured out how you’re gonna get him out of there.

You broke one of the most fundamental rule of fighting.

Never turn your back on the enemy—until it’s truly dead.

“The web’s too thick!”

You straightened your back while kneeling and held your saber mere inches over his body, “Stay still so I don’t burn you!”

“W-Wait!” he freted, his clear green irises popping out of the whites of his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I got a steady grip,” you reassured, clueless of what he’s really panicking for.

“No, [Y/N], look out!”

The Matriarch had snatched you the same way she did with Cal. While you wriggle in her leg, she pulls you in closer to her face—it doesn’t matter if her mouth’s burned, all she needs to do is devour you, thus you’ve been rid of—though it was an opportunity: you gathered all the power in one leg and stamped her face  _hard_ with the sole of your boot, so hard in fact, that the mud that had caked the sole left a mark on the spider’s face. Afterward, you kicked her in th eeyes with the point of your boot, and did this repeatedly until the Wyyyschokk budges and lets you go.


	5. Favor the Brave

You landed on the soil with a cat-like posture and lightness. You and Cal—though still immobilized—watched the spider rub its face, soothing itself from the pain of your kicking. Once relieved, the spider locked all of its eyes solely on _you._

“I think you’ve made it angrier,” Cal attempted to lean closer to your earshot.

“Yeah, well, I _did_ cut her leg off. And kicked in the face. So yeah, I guess you can say I pissed her off!”

Before the Wyyyschokk could skitter back to a closer distance, you threw your lightsaber to its direction, searing the top of its hind abdomen and came bouncing back at you. If this abomination could speak, she would definitely have said something along the lines of “I am tired of dealing with you two children!”

Those words, albeit not exact, echoed in your mind—as if the Wyyyschokk had communicated withyou. But you can’t afford a moment to reflect.

It was time to fight.

“Okay,” you huffed, psyching yourself up. “You can do this...”

The Wyyyschokk screeched at you. You squeeze your hilt with both hands.

“Probably,” you shrug a shoulder during your short pep talk with yourself.

The Wyyyschokk close din on you this time, it probably remembered you amputating it—recognizing the color of your lightsaber as well—and got more aggressive in its approach. It wasn’t the slighest bit intimidated by a stick of light that you swing around, and so it proceeded to crawl towards you.

You dared not to run, even if that’s your initial impulse whenever you’re head-to-head with your own phobia. You planted the soles of your boots to the soil—balanced and erect in your erect. When the Matriarch Wyyyschokk was close enough, you swung your saber the other way, completely removing the other leg she had used in holding Cal. Her once-pointed foot was nothing more than a limb with a charred stub. The Matriarch looked at her leg stump, the pain and the anger boiled altogether into one drum-busting wail—rattling her entire body and the cavern, possibly alerting her spawns.

Covering your ears did so little in muffling out the noise, both you and Cal winced until the spider stopped screaming.

Cal continued to wriggle his way out of the cocoon, but to no avail; meanwhile, you try your best to fight off the Wyyyschokk. You transitioned from aimless swinging to more calculated attacks—although basic strikes, as they were—and evasive maneuvers. One of the objectives was to not get impaled by her other intact legs with ends as sharp as spearheads. With your size versus the Matriarch’s, you’re capable of avoiding her wide-ranged attacks and parrying the lunges. The hide of the creature’s rotund abdomen was surprisingly tougher, your slashes could only singe the shell, but not totally maim or subdue it—that’s when you realized you have to drive your saber through its weak spot: the exposed flesh on the peak of its abdomen.

_She’s too fast!_ You observed in your mind. The only way to solve that is to completely cut off all of her limbs—you’ve taken out two of eight so far, you’ve six more to go.

There was a burst of energy seething within you, it’s probably from the adrenaline; whatever its origin, you made use of it to your advantage. The Matriarch can still attack you like normal, though her pair of leg stumps do less damage than before when they were still whole. Elusively sliding to its side before it could turn around to face you, a violent push hurtled it against the wall, bringing the Matriarch lying on her side and her grotesque feet scrambling to stand herself up; being just one second behind, you come sprinting forward with the glistening beam of light primed for a stab. A clean sweeping cut to the right severed the last joints of the Wyyyschokk’s legs, your heels sprang up from the ground and sparks flew when your lightsaber met with the spider’s tough hide.

Tearing through the prismatic, shimmering shell of its rump, there was a bit of a struggle; though, with the Wyyyschokk disoriented and physically handicapped on one side, it afforded you some time to really deal some damage. Never mind the ear-drilling howls, you supported the pommel with the base of your hand when there was resistance coming from the Matriarch. You wager a guess that you’re driving deep into the organs while the set of stumps of her left-side slap and whip at your back.

Whne the clawing had become more violent, you withdrew from the beast. Both Jedi and the little droid, BD-1, watched the spider scramble back to its feet—it now stood slanted, her menacing gait was now a thing of the past as it was reduced to a humiliating hobble unfit for something named a Matriarch. Though, it was fueled by a primal rage of killing its prey to do itself some justice.

“This has got to be the most persistent spider I’ve seen!” you commented to Cal.

“Yeah, just to get back at you for chopping her legs!”

“Fair point,” you shrugged sarcastically. “Which makes me hate it back even more!”

You sprang back towards it, the burst of power remained undying. The Matriarch rears back an inch and the sorry remnants of her front limbs are lifted from the ground—you know this move, thus you retaliated with a successful parry. The spider was quick to follow up another attack, but you were quicker—parroting a particular move of Cal’s: a direct kick right after doding the next attack. You swerved to your left—the side where the last of this great Wyyyschokk’s limbs remain intact—and executed the kick to disorient it for a brief second. A move that required one to move in the blink of an eye.

You followed it up with a duo of hard, heavy slashes that severed the left side of its body—the sternum, the abdomen—but it quickly shifted to face you, until the Matriarch attempted to redo the same attack that you parried, only this time, it won’t take a single parry to deter her. You felt the animal’s confidence of sorts that it’ll finally kill you along with Cal, reinforced by the same primitive rage that fuels its persistence, and you determined it to be its undoing.

Lunge. And then a parry.

This exchange of assault happened thrice. The third parry was the strongest, injuring the outer set of mandibles. With the Matriarch fazed after the third, you hopped on to her head like a stepping stone until you hover on the peak of its abdomen. The tip of the lightsaber aligns with the center of the fleshy, claw-shaped dermis and plunged it. You found it easier to penetrate the top than the side. Of course, the Wyyyschokk thrashed violently, you held onto your hilt as tight as you could and buckled your knees to plant your feet against its shell.

“Damn...” Cal muttered in awe as he watched, almost not minding the cocoon.

The movement became slower and more sluggish, the Wyyyschokk has depleted its energy on its dying throes, though you still held onto the hilt with the blade driven deep through the creature’s shell. In half a second, the Matriarch Wyyyschokk’s body finishes into a heavy thud on the earth, you joined the drop, your knuckles were swelling white as bone from the tightness of your grip, and then returned to its color when you confirmed your quarry to be unmoving. The Matriarch’s remaining limbs clenched and scraped the earth until she finally gave up and loosed all tension in her body. A weak squeal escapes her mouth for the last time.

Silence for ten seconds past. Either Jedi anticipated something, but hoped that it was finally over. Cal squirmed around in his silken straitjacket.

“Umm... [Y/N]?”

“Oh...” you huffed. Your hand searched for the saber still stuck into the spider’s exoshell. It took some effort to tug it out, when you did, a vile mixture of cauterized bits of entrails and sparks spurted out of the orifice. You then dragged your knees to Cal’s direction, the tip of your saber hovered an inch above the mud; you knelt at a considerable distance from Cal—the heavy load on your entire body, pounded to exhaustion as the adrenaline wore off, felt relieving. You then founded the strength to hold your saber to eye level and carefully cut through the cocoon.

“Alright, now hold still,” your weak voice was almost a whisper.

“Gently now,” Cal whimpered.

You overlooked the evident doubt in his voice knowing full well you’ve been battered by the fight, “It’s fine, I can still hold it up properly.”

Cal could feel the heat coming from the end of your saber, but he can also feel the cocoon loosening up on his shoulders, and then to his neck; much later, there’s finally some wiggle room for his arms, you worked your way in cutting it downward until his kicked the cocoon’s flaps open. He rolled over and threw the rest of the shell off of his back.

“It’s almost like you hatched out of it,” you joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” retaliated the redhead as he dusted off the grass and dirt from his sleeves. His sarcastic tone mellowed and shifted into a warm, affirming tone, “Hey...”

Sensing the abrupt change of tone, you looked to him, wordlessly prompting him to continue.

He plants his hand on the top of your head, fingers slightly digging into your hair and rubbed lightly. “You did great back there.”

You let out one big sigh. Your foreheads touch.

“You did it, [Y/N],” Cal said this twice, whispering proudly to you as he squeezes your hand. He sneaks a kiss on your forehead and helped each other back up on your feet.

“Come on, before the kids find out their mom is dead,” you blurted.

Speak of the devil. Both of you had to move fast as neither of you can deny that the collective skittering and hissing of the lesser Wyyyschokks are starting to get a little louder—what seemed to start as faint noises lurking amongst the rock eolved into a menacing buzz that frightened even the little BD-1.

“T-Trill!”

“BD’s picking up a lot of thermal signatures in here all of a sudden!” Cal translated.

“Well, I’m not waiting to find out what they are in person!”

Gathering his strength, Cal punched the wall with the brass claws, starting with his right hand. When he got a feel that it’ll hold, he looked over his shoulder.

“Hold onto me.”

there was no time for argument. At the corner of your eye, you could see the moss-green of the Wyyyschokk’s body popping out of the shadows. You drape your arms around Cal and he begins scaling the rock wall. You lock your legs against his hips, and quietly promised you’d literally get off of his back when you’re at a considerable distance from the ledge.

You peeked down and Cal has brought the two of you pretty far up now, the collective hissing in the shadows have taken shape into a cluster of the lesser Wyyyschokks gathering round the carcass of their mother. Their fangs twitch as they touch the dead shell of the Matriarch, the feelers in their mandibles alert them that there isn’t anymore a sign of life within her—their sad curiosity morphed into a seething rage akin to their mother’s, rooted by their grief as a whole pack.

“Um, Cal? I think they’ve figured it out!”

“Figured what out?”

“That we killed their mom,”

“Hey, that’s all on _you_!”

The redhead attempted to pick up the pace, not letting the pressure get to him. You briefed Cal on your plan, so when he got to the top end of the wall, he drove the claws deeper and planted the tips of his boots for traction.

He peeked over his shoulder, looking down, and seeing that the Wyyyschokks scamper from the dead Matriarch to the base of the wall. His heart rate spikes.

“Any moment now, [Y/N]!”

“I’m working on it, hon!” you grunted.

Your free hand flicked the cover of the small switch that’ll send a wire flying from your right-hand gauntlet. Once done, you extend your right arm, fist facing forward, and then a hooked cord shoots right out of the narrow runway of the gadget. The tiny spines on the hook dug into ledge’s adjacent wall. With his free hand, Cal takes the loose end of the cord out of the gauntlet’s small hatch—revealing a toothed anchor—and stabs the rock wall with it. A few good, resistant tugs confirmed that the anchor’s been secured.

“Alright, it’s good to go,” reported Cal.

Y ou scrambled for the pouch on your utility harness and produced a zipline slider. You literally got off Cal’s back, hooked the slider over the cord, and traversed the air—hanging about twenty feet above the ground with a colony of vengeful spiders below. Shortly after, BD-1 hopped over the cord, his forked feet clicked and transformed into the same fashion of a zipline slider—then Cal held onto the little droid and joined you on the ledge.

A few of the spiders have already climbed to a certain height of the wall, others have cut through the line and circled to reach the top end, a handful have crossed the gap by deliberately passing by the rock wall and towards you. Before any of them could examine the anchor—let alone, realize that it’s there—you twisted a thin knob on the hook-end. The anchor whipped and whistled, startling the spiders near it, and snapped as it conjoins itself with the hook. Cal watched with a child-like wonderment.

“That’s pretty nifty!”

“I know, I should make one for you some time!”

Once the hook and anchor mechanism had reduced into the size of a metal pod, you returned it to its small hatch on your gauntlet and prepared for a second shot—this time, as a climbing line from the ledge to the oculus.

You’re reminded of the disadvantage on your end, “I can’t zipline upwards. I’m gonna have to borrow BD.”

“Bee-bee-chirp!” the droid was happy to help and didn’t spare a second in hopping onto the cord.

Before you could even hold onto little BD-1, a single Wyyyschokk clung onto the rock above your heads and greeted you with its maws, strung with saliva and bile. It didn’t wait any longer for either of you to react, but the pointy end of Cal’s lightsaber beamed through the roof of its mouth and then through its skull. He thumbed on the switch while his weapon was still near its mouth, the rod of light vanished cleanly, scrolling downward into the emitter.

The Force lent him enough strength to carry and toss the Wyyyschokk off the ledge, but a few would soon follow.

“Uhh, [Y/N]...”

“I know, I know! I see them!”

That courage you had on the ground against the Matriarch Wyyyschokk seemed to have died with her. Your phobia was returning in each passing minute her legion of spawn cover nearly half of the wall. Your initial grip on BD was unstable, it took you a brief minute to adjust your grip that’ll reassure you won’t fall along the way.

Clamping your fingers tight around BD’s feet, the droid’s rotors went to work and delivered you from point to point. As soon as BD’s feet touched the end of the string, you buckled your legs and sprang upward, directly out of the oculus. You knelt by the rim of the hole and witnessed the spiders miss Cal by a hair. He leaped straight out, the three of you regrouped but it doesn’t stop there—one problem after another, the spiders were gaining and they’re already treading the cord.

“Step away!”

You cut the cord with your saber, the cord twanged and whipped as it lost all the tension from the anchor and hook. The spiders that were walking on it went down with it. A few have failed in attempting to make the impossible jump and fell from a higher drop.

“Here, help me!” Cal scrambled up to his feet and then faced his entire body towards a boulder.

Immediately getting the idea, you stood up and channeled the Force; gathering strength to lift the boulder alongside Cal. Together, the rock rose from the ground, leaving an indent on its former place since time immemorial, and—fitting like a glove—clogs up the cavern’s oculus from the surface, severing the leg joint of a juvenile Wyyyschokk in the process.

The amputated leg wildly twitched, hopped, and writhed by your feet, which you jerked back out of startled disgust. The two of your watched it until it finally curled and went limp. Finally, you and Cal can afford the breather that you so desperately wanted and needed.

“Come on, we have to get back to base,” you nudge at his shoulder.

“Yeah...” he exhaled. “Yeah, let’s.”

You chuckle at his lazy bum. Your arms couold not take up his weight as you take his one hand with both of yours. He initiated to stand up when you landed on your bottom after trying to tug at him, the roles reversed, and you distanced yourself from the clogged hole of the underground cavern.

Cal clicked the button of his comlink.

“Sierra Unit, do you copy?”

A couple more impatient clicks on the gadget and he was answered with static. BD-1 tried to help by popping out his tiny satellite out of the top plating of his head, the little dish spins at a speed while the droid’s owner continues his desperate attempt.

The device finally beeped, an ecstatic male voice answers.

“Hey now, I thought for sure you were goners in that Wyyyschokk pit!”

A grin stretched across Cal’s freckled face. A huge relief befell him when his shoulders voluntarily relaxed. You shared the same sentiment, except you hid your desperation for a response on the other end of the comlink.

“Is it too early for a pick-up?” chortled Cal.

“Not at all! Just send us your coordinates and we’ll be right over... Over!”

After the transmission, you were drawn to the crashing sound of water, thus you followed it; you walk up to the more open area of the forest—finding yourselves on the side of a river, at the edge was a waterfall. The scenic view at the ridge was breathtaking. Fresh, crisp air welcome itself into your lungs, the loose fringes of your hiar whipped at the torrential wind from such an altitude, and the mist of the water tickled your cheeks and neck.

This was a wholly new area to both of you.

“Cal, over here!”

The redhead approached where you stood. He, too, was astounded by the view. Treetops and mountains that were greener than his emerald irses, and a sky that was so vast and blue; the Shyyyo Bird made an appearance, gliding over the treelines. The spray of the rapids at his left-hand side landed on his freckles and fogged BD-1’s optical lens. He realizes that there’s so much that everyone—except the Wookiees—hasn’t touched yet: Imperial or otherwise.

Not long after appreciating the view, a gray speck dotted the sky in your north, at the edge of the waterfall. Squinting through the horizon with your hand over your brow, the gray speck in the sky takes on size. The rotors of a retrofitted LAAT gunship mingle quite well with the roaring rapids—faintly, at first, until it got louder as they got nearer. A foot soldier peeked out of the doorless side of the ship and waved his free arm at you. As a response, you ignite your saber and wave it in the same manner as the soldier.

Just when you thought you were saved—the spiders have made a team effort in pushing out the boulder used to block off their exit. The thumping sound of the rock caused both Jedi to swing around and watch as the Wyyyschokks spring out of the hole. The foot soldier saw the quick transition from your glad expressions to an impatient, anxious one.

“Hurry, drop down the ladder!”

“Come on! They’re coming!”

Confused, the foot soldier was partially panicking and taking his time—unsure of the sudden mood change. He scrambled inside the ship looking for the rope ladder while the vessel lowered itself slowly. Alternating between the soldier in the ship and the rock being moved by the spiders in a collective effort, Cal locked eyes with one lesser Wyyyschokk while you clawed the air—pleading the soldier to kick down the ladder.

“HURRY!!” you cried.

The ladder was still untangling itself in mid-air when you clumsily caught a rung.

“Cal, come on!”

You manually straightened out the rope ladder and started climbing, Cal followed suit. The foot soldier shouted at the pilot to bring them up while the two Jedi were still clinging onto some rungs. The juvenile Wyyyschokks never got close to your heels; by the time they’ve completely gotten out of their den, the LAAT gunship has already carried you. The creatures curse the wind and the metal bird for refraining them from avenging their mother.

Again, you catch your breaths while the foot soldier checked on both of you.

“You’re alright, you two. You’re safe now,” he reassured. “What happened down there anyway?”

Cal nodded sideways, pointing to you, “Believe it or not: [Y/N] here killed the Matriarch.”

The soldier’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped altogether, “No way?”

The Jedi boy countered, bemusingly, “Way.”

“I don’t believe it. Well, that’s a story to tell around the campfire back at base!”

All you could do was smile. You were exhausted. There was nothing to say, but you appreciate the affirmation. The least you could do right now, after facing your fear all caged inside a rock, is reward yourself with rest.


End file.
